War Poem by Pierre Rausch

These countries soon forgot love
On days tanks entered and a storm fought above
Broken glass in front of shops
Windows held behind these snobs
Pull the first lock and trigger
At the waist of pain and vigor
No tobacco and lead pipe
New flint and genotype

Dead from the first minute on
Dead from the first minute on


The deepest part of the wounds
I could not stay on the ground
Could not get it straight
The legs would bear no weight
Excruciating pain, fresh blood
The captain riding the young stud
Another shot, load your rifle
See violence and get an eyeful

Dead from the first minute on
Dead from the first minute on

The crimson king of raking scars
Cleared in particular, alone with Ares
In other words sovereign sponsorship
Defenseless, another minute to skip
Extending from heaven to earth
The field marshall gives birth
To a brigade in the casern
Not understanding what they learn

Dead from the first minute on
Dead from the first minute on